


Many Happy Returns

by ollipop



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Mindless Fluff, Sherlock Makes Deductions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ollipop/pseuds/ollipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Didn’t want to make a fuss, and you also didn’t want to be alone. A bit pathetic, don’t you think? You might’ve just said.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Many Happy Returns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [codswallop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/codswallop/gifts).



> A one-hour ficlet on the happy occasion of ThirdBird's birth. My only regret is that I couldn't raise a Cucumberbatch in your honor today! Inspired by [this pic](http://going19.wordpress.com/2013/01/06/oh-hey-thats-right/). Other than that, I claim no excuse.

John leaned cheerfully through the doorframe of the morgue towards Lestrade and Sherlock, and motioned to Lestrade. 

“That’s all taken care of, then. Meet you outside?” At Lestrade’s nod, John turned smartly and headed upstairs. 

Sherlock looked incredulously at Lestrade. “Hang on. He doesn’t know, does he?” 

“Doesn’t know what?” Lestrade asked, trying for innocence. 

“Doesn’t know why he’s going to the pub with you tonight.” Sherlock’s eyes were pinned on the other man’s jacket, and he continued without acknowledging Lestrade’s scoff. “Oh, come on, Inspector. There’s a card tucked into your jacket, _pink,_ over-large, with a scribbled envelope. From a child then, obviously. You’ve not left it in the evidence room, it’s not from a case, so the child and the note must be yours. Your mobile phone’s rung seven times, and you’ve ignored it all day long. Four of those calls were from your mother, by the way. None of them were from your wife.” 

Sherlock turned a slow circle around Lestrade, who was rolling his eyes as he leaned against the side of the desk. “You’ve got blue frosting under the fingernail on your right hand, and a bit of confetti stuck behind your left ear. Sally’s forced a cupcake on you, or something along those lines. The front desk records show that you were in late, and yet you left the office for nearly an hour at lunch. You may as well have not come in at all, but you’ve no place else to be, hence asking John out for a pint to watch a match you don’t really care about. Didn’t want to make a fuss, and you also didn’t want to be alone. A bit pathetic, don’t you think? You might’ve just said.” 

Sherlock’s eyes were wide in mock sympathy, and he’d pulled up his collar to emphasize that aggressive lean of his shoulders as he deduced Lestrade’s story, but a tiny smile was playing around the corner of his lips. If Sherlock had known how to flirt, Lestrade thought, he would do it just like this. 

“You’re just miffed that we didn’t ask you to tag along. Fancy a pint?” _Nothing_ was going to ruin Lestrade’s day today, not even his idiot genius consulting detective.

Sherlock scoffed. “Please. I could never endure anything so dull.” 

Lestrade smirked and reached past Sherlock for his coat. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot. You have tobacco ash to categorize. Don’t let us keep you.” As he made his way to the door, Lestrade heard Sherlock shift behind him. 

“Lestrade?”

“Yes?”

“Happy birthday.”

Lestrade’s smile widened further, and he raised his chin toward Sherlock in a salute before walking down the hallway after his friend.


End file.
